Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(18)

I knew it. I knew this was going to happen. He has a fiancée. He’s a doctor with a fiancée and a perfect life and they’re planning a beautiful wedding and he’s going to take my little girl every other weekend and some holidays.

“You’re engaged?” I don’t know why it hurts, but in the middle of my chest, a twinge of pain creeps across my heart.

“We’re getting married in June.”

“That’s only a few months away,” I say, but he shakes his head.

“Next June. It’s a long engagement.” An odd look passes over his face. I can’t place it for certain, but to me it looks like confusion. “She says there’s a lot to do. Big affair. She’s very traditional.”

Of course she is. Ten bucks says she’s blond. Long hair. Tall. Skin like porcelain. Face like a painting.

“Congratulations.” I murmur. It’s what I’m supposed to say.

Isaac looks down at the ground and laughs, but the sound is empty. “Thanks.”

I curl my feet beneath me and scoot on the swing until I’m pressed against the far corner of it.

“So, what now?” I ask. Might as well get right to it. No need for pleasantries. No what have you been up to in the past five years.

“Can I see her?” Isaac asks, his face hopeful.

“Now, or always?”

“Both.”

I nod and unfold my legs, standing. “She’s asleep, but you can look in at her.”

He follows me into the house. I lead him down the hall to Claire’s room, which is across from mine. It used to be my dad’s office, but he’s never complained about the loss.

A big, oversize letter C hangs from a pink ribbon on her door. Gently I turn the handle and push, then step aside so Isaac can enter.

He pauses in the doorway and looks back at me. He reaches for my hand, pulling me until I’m beside him. His eyes find Claire in her bed, her broken arm propped up on an extra pillow. His face takes on a peaceful quality I know well. Looking at Claire does that to me, too.

He turns his head, and his eyes meet mine. He squeezes my hand. Our faces are only six inches apart, and even though I don’t know Isaac any better than I did that night, I feel like I do.

I’m so conflicted right now. I know Isaac deserves to know his daughter. I know Claire deserves to know him. But I want to keep her all to myself in a place where I can protect her. I want all of her bedtime snuggles and Eskimo kisses.

And the tough reality is that she no longer belongs to only me.





If I don’t stop eating this ice cream, caramel cookie something or other, I’m going to be sick.

Doesn’t really matter though. I’m a little sick right now anyway.

If Jenna wakes up and sees me with this tub in my hand, she’s going to be appalled. My nervous eating bothers her.

But first I’d have to confess why I’m standing here in my kitchen with a half-gallon of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.

Jenna, I have a daughter.

No, I didn’t know about her. Not until today.

It happened five years ago. Right before I left for Africa. One night. One hour, actually.

One hour of Aubrey. Broken, sad Aubrey, who only wanted to forget about her pain.

I did that for her. Made her forget. I made her eyes roll back in her head, her back arch, her legs stiffen. Her dark hair fanned out on my white sheets, an incredible contrast. Her lips swollen, because I could hardly move my mouth from hers, even when I knew the clock was ticking. When I kissed Aubrey, my whole world felt right. And on that night, the night I found out everything I grew up believing was wrong, Aubrey filled a void.

But then she left an even bigger hole. I watched her go, and I wanted to stop her. We’d had an agreement, and she made her choice. I took from her, she took from me, and when I let her slip out my door, we had no idea what we’d created.

I’m not sure how Jenna’s going to take it.

That’s not true. I can make a pretty educated guess.

Jenna has a lot of expectations. She expects that everything will happen the way she plans it to. She expects that everyone will be just who she wants them to be. She expects problems will not arise, because she has created a world where problems do not exist.

I love her, I really do. She’s been my friend since high school. When I ran into her two years ago at an industry event, it was like old times. We caught each other up on what’s happened since we parted ways after graduation. She teased me for not being a part of social media and hiding from our friends. One date turned into two dates, and then we were dating. She didn’t have any pain that needed healing, not like Aubrey. Jenna is a straight line. No fractures, no past wounds, just a whole body that’s never been broken. I love her. I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t love her. But I’d be lying if I said there isn’t something missing.

That missing element was easy to ignore—until today when Aubrey came hurtling into my life again. Her breathing sped up, and mine did too. Her pupils dilated, and I didn’t need a mirror to know mine did too. As a doctor I recognize the physical signs of excitement, but to feel them, to know the effect they have on the mind, is a different story. Right now those effects have me here in my kitchen, shoveling ice cream into my mouth and wondering if Jenna has ever made my pupils dilate.